


It goes like this (Y dice así)

by inkysand



Series: Love song (Canción de amor) [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Between Episodes, Complicated Relationships, Danny is a Mess, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Early in Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, English translation, Feels, Fluffy Ending, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Minor Canonical Character(s), Misunderstandings, Overthinking, The Author Regrets Nothing, Timeline What Timeline, it's complicated - Freeform, neither does the translator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:05:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18376853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkysand/pseuds/inkysand
Summary: The first time is an accident. The second and third time have plausible explanations. Plausible to him, at least. The following times...the following times he has no excuses.





	1. Writing my name on your heart

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [It goes like this (Y dice así)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737810) by [Alphecca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphecca/pseuds/Alphecca). 



> _The story begins when two people who never dreamed they would meet end up finding each other. At the moment they least expect it, but at exactly the right time._
> 
>  
> 
> -Anonymous

It goes like this:

 

The first time is an accident. _Really._ (Although he suspects Kono wouldn’t agree, she isn’t even there so she can’t have an opinion.) The truth is he left home without any premeditation of any kind. Yes, maybe, there was a vague idea buzzing around in the back of his head that solidified, but that was it.

It isn’t entirely altruistic. Danny feels sentimental after a long work day filled with family resentments, blood spilled in a soccer field, and counting up the hours and days left before Grace was gone from his life. More than anything, his feelings vibrating with a clarity that he couldn’t put into words, he is grateful to his partner. Steve helped him with the latest custody problems with his daughter. He spoke about it to the _Governor_ _of Hawaii_ of all people—which, on one hand, was horribly manipulative and way over the line as far as Danny was concerned, but on the other hand felt extraordinarily _significant_ —and he wanted to acknowledge it.

They didn’t know each other well, they’d met barely a few days ago. But there was something intense, powerful, about being near Steve, and it seemed like every action brought them a step closer together. Even when Danny wanted to get away.

 _Especially_ when he wanted to get away.

He figured some cold beers and a pizza would be a better way to say thanks than an uncomfortable handshake, although maybe not as spontaneous. He also hoped that Steve would welcome his company, since the idea of Steve living in that house full of ghosts made something deep inside his soul hurt. He wanted to believe that he could help get rid of some of the shadows in his eyes.

His knuckles tap softly against the door.

“Why are you knocking?” Steve asks, when he answers. His gaze is full of sharp, unexpected suspicion.

It’s an odd reaction.

“I thought it annoyed you when I just walked in,” Danny responds, because he’s in a mood to compromise and knows that for someone as organized as Steve, his _mere presence_ is an interruption. He lifts the beer in a mock salute. “Are you busy?”

After eating, they sit on the sofa, their legs resting on the coffee table.

Steve doesn’t have any photos on his walls—no family portraits, not the slightest hint of a family history—and their absence gets Danny’s attention more than it should, in spite of the other, very pretty pictures around.

It’s the house of someone who is alone.

“You didn’t have to come, Danny, you know?” Steve says suddenly. His gaze is fixed on the mouth of his beer bottle and his posture is casual, relaxed.

“ _I know_ ,” he answers after a moment. He chooses his words carefully because there is something unspoken about their relationship and he doesn’t want to ruin it. They don’t talk about it, they live it. “But for some reason, I _like_ your company.”

It seems like the words take a minute to make sense, but Steve’s answering smile is blinding, which is painful and embarrassing at the same time.

“Did you ever finish measuring how much of your soul you lost?” Steve asks, looking relaxed again. “Or did it end up going somewhere else?”

Danny chuckles and elbows Steve without thinking. Steve fakes a grimace of pain. It’s nice, having someone again. He almost seems like a friend.

He isn’t as alone as he thought.

Really.

They drink beer and watch a game on TV. Danny pays attention and complains as needed, but he’s not really interested because he doesn’t support either team. Steve, in spite of seeming like he’s not all that entertained, looks more comfortable than he has all the time Danny’s known him.

To his complete surprise, the sound of the television and Steve’s calm breathing turn into a soft lullaby at some point. Danny imagines that, probably, the combination of accumulated tiredness, the purr of alcohol, and having the weight of worry drop from his shoulders once Grace’s custody had been resolved made it easier to slip into unconsciousness. He sinks into the sofa, very close to Steve even though there’s room, and sighs with contentment. He has no intention of falling asleep, really.

He closes his eyes for a moment. And sleeps. 

 

* * *

 

Danny wakes up first, because _of course_ he wakes up first with the insistent rumor of the waves filling the air.

Darkness, tucked around him like a blanket, confuses him for a moment. But realizing that Steve has an arm around his shoulders, as if to keep him from moving—from leaving—is even more disconcerting and more… _interesting_. Other than that, his companion is still relaxed beside him, long legs stretched on the coffee table and head thrown back. Apparently deep asleep.

They’re almost friends. No, _they are friends._ And the company is nice, well, yeah, nice enough. And he’s warm, in a way that has nothing to do with the island’s usual temperature. But—

The last time he slept next to someone else was when he was married—yeah, okay, maybe he was _pathetic_ —and his brain couldn’t understand why the _hell_ Steve was sleeping next to him. He should have left him alone—if he couldn’t wake him up, that is—and gone to sleep in his comfortable, restful _bed._ Danny isn’t uncomfortable because, really, the sofa-bed back at his apartment left much to be desired, but there’s no way on earth that Steve is comfortable.

“You’re thinking too much, Danno,” the voice on his right sounds rough, heavy with sleep, and Danny feels his lips move into a smile almost against his will. “Go back to sleep.”

He’s not complaining about being called Danno because…he’s half-asleep.

That’s gotta be it.

“How can you sleep with all this _noise_ , Steven?” he asks, although there are so many other questions at the tip of his tongue that he hopes will be answered eventually. “Let me up.”

“ _What_ noise?” 

Steve’s arm tenses against his shoulders, and he knows that he just activated SEAL mode. Of course.

_Jesus._

He sighs. “Forget it.”

The waves seem to retreat again and Steve’s breathing is heavy, close to his ear. Too close, if you asked him. If he moved a little, Danny knows, he could snuggle into his chest and make the situation even stranger and more bizarre than it already is.

“Go back to sleep,” Steve insists. It sounds just as sleepy as before, and at the same time, it’s an invitation. Tempting. He wishes he could see his face so he could match it to that tone of voice.

Danny closes his eyes and sighs deeply. Sleep closes its jaws around his mind and he knows falling into it will be easy.

_It’s your problem, future Danny._


	2. Finding a sunset in a storm

It goes like this:

 

The second time it happens it still isn’t on purpose. True, it’s not an accident, strictly speaking, but it’s innocent in every way. He is willing to swear that on his most precious possessions. Absolutely innocent. (And although Chin would have let it go the first time, he’d give him a weird look for the second one.)

The only thing Danny is thinking, honestly, is that Steve shouldn’t spend too much time alone.

Not after what happened two days ago. Not with everything he’s found out about him since they met. The guy has a guilt complex the size of Oahu—or bigger. Danny suspects that between the two of them and their issues they could surely sink Hawaii and maybe some other island into the Pacific. And that wasn’t counting Chin and Kono, because that, _that_ would be big-time spectacular.

He knows how hard it is to lose a friend—just the memory of Meka’s funeral cuts sharp and close into the back of his mind—but he can’t imagine what it’s like to have the blood on his hands. _Yes, he can, although not the same way, because he can feel Grace’s absence in his bones since that fateful September_ —and solitude spent fighting everything that your memory can drag up is worse than an unexpected visit. It doesn’t matter what a good friend Nick Taylor had been before his betrayal. His death makes remembering him bittersweet forever because there’s no redemption for a corpse. And bitterness sinks deep into the roots.

Danny knows that it’s very possible that part of Steve is gone with him.

Even so, he’s only convinced that he made the right decision when he shows up at the McGarrett house and sees Steve’s face. It’s all shadows and tense lines, distance and pain burning under the surface. He’s stoic in spite of himself, _obviously_ , because that is the only logical, acceptable way to behave. Danny wants to hug him and tell him that it will all get better, although it’s a weak lie at best.

He doesn’t, of course, because it wouldn’t be welcome.

“Mind if I come in for a minute?”

He can see the hesitation and, to be honest, he’s surprised when he is allowed in without much argument.

“The contractors the governor sent have just left,” Steve tells him, the explanation listless. “I thought they’d forgotten something.”

The house looks better than the last time he was there, which isn’t saying much since it had been under attack and everything had been dark. But Danny was grateful that the worst signs of the devastation from the latest mission had been erased. There was still work to do but it didn’t look too urgent, and the men the governor had sent had made good use of their time.

Honestly, the only thing he could think about was that this place had witnessed another death, that it was still dark and stained and corrupted. And how sad it was that _Steve was living here._  

“Are there repairs left to do tomorrow?”

Nothing could erase the ghosts that were filling the house little by little, heavy, disturbing ghosts, dark memories painting already gloomy walls, but Danny _wants to._ He doesn’t want to see more shadows in Steve’s eyes, added to the ones that had been there when they met. He wants to help even if he can’t do much. It occurs to him that distracting Steve is easier and more subtle than asking him to stay in a hotel or dragging him out of that place against his will.

If he suspects what he’s up to, what he’s thinking about doing, he’ll dig in his heels and cross his arms. He’ll do his best imitation of a _five-year-old_ because Steven McGarrett is just that immature and stubborn, and has to do everything his way because it’s the best way. And, stupidly, it works for him. It’s why dealing with him is so frustrating.

Steve is watching his every move like a hawk, waiting.

“Are you offering to help?” he asks, taking a sip of beer. Steve denied taking anything for his injuries, and Danny hopes that the alcohol at least helps him forget. “I didn’t take you for being handy around the house.” 

He raises an eyebrow, because _what the hell?_

“I can even cook.”

He’s not an expert, but he can do it. 

That earns him a smile.

  
He’s always surprised at how much Steve’s face changes when he smiles. Not the easy, affable smile he offers to everyone, but when he really _smiles_. He seems like someone who’s always relaxed in every way, but his appearance is always deliberate, calculated. He bets he is always in control of himself. Keeping people at a distance with a polite mask and a reasonable temperament. Danny could never do that but he had enough experience to recognize it without any difficulty.

“I’ve got to see it to believe it, Danno.”

He doesn’t push so hard to be left alone when it came to Danny, that was for sure. He hasn’t known him long, but he knows it’s an honor. Most of the time…when he isn’t busy reminding himself why he likes to spend time with him to start with.  
  
He grumbles purely for dramatic effect while he heads to the kitchen—Steve on his heels—and then ends up arguing about what they’re going to eat, what he can make without going out, and other nonsense. It’s normal. It feels _normal_ in the middle of their not-normal days, filled with kidnappings and explosions and the madness that is Five-0. He keeps feeling this way even when the food is done and the night has brought the day to an end.

  
“Who would have guessed you’re not useless in the kitchen.” But his smile and the softness in his eyes takes all the sting out of his words.

“I’ve got three siblings, Steve. I’m the _oldest_. I had to learn to survive somehow when my ma was busy with something,” he explains, smiling at the thought of little faces. Not little any more. “Why are you smiling at me?”

  
Steve draws back, his expression as open and clear as spring water.

“I’m trying to imagine you with your siblings,” he says, with that smile he always got when he was convinced he was coming out on top. “I bet you were jealous.”

He is _worse_ than _Matty_.

“I was three when my sister was born,” he answers with a shrug. He didn’t remember much that early on, really.  “ _I picked_ my brother’s name. And I was never jealous of anyone.”  
  
Steve’s eyes had a very different kind of sparkle, but still familiar. Amusement, very possibly. “I’m sure you were.”

Resisting the impulse to roll his eyes, he smiles a little when he see that the line of Steve’s shoulders isn’t as tense as before. 

“Thanks for being here, Danny,” he mummers finally. He sounds like he’s hurting, exhausted, and he understands, because there are words that are hard to say. Especially for someone who struggles to hide all and any pain. He doesn’t have to thank him, but he doesn’t say that. In time, he _hopes_ , McGarrett won’t find it so hard to admit that he needs help.

That it won’t cost him so much to accept it.  
  
“He was your friend. You _did_ the same for me.”

Steve has a different opinion.

For a brief moment, he can see unease, worry, and so much bitterness on Steve’s face that he has to look away. Steve doesn’t like showing weakness and he is—Danny _has_ to pretend he doesn’t see it.

So the moment passes.

“I would’ve _liked_ to meet Meka. You hated Nick the moment you saw him.”

Danny blinks, a little ashamed of the memory. 

“He was your friend and he was important to you,” he says carefully. He reaches out a hand to squeeze Steve’s shoulder hard enough to get his attention, making eye contact to make sure he knows that he means every _word._ “ It doesn’t matter how it ended, it’s okay to grieve for what you lost. It’s okay that you hurt.”

He tilts his head, unable to decipher the expression on Steve’s face. And that is saying _something_ , because for all his stoicism he has the worst poker face. His shoulders drop a little but he doesn’t know if it is because he accepts what he just heard or because he just can’t fight anymore against the weight of his feelings.

  
Danny gathers the dishes together and takes them to the kitchen to give him some space. 

“Look, it’s late…Do you need anything before I go?” he makes himself ask when the silence gets too suffocating. 

“I’m fine.” The pause goes on longer than necessary, longer than _expected_ , after that first answer. “You don’t have to go.”

 Danny wavers, unsure how to answer. 

He should say no, he’s got to leave. Rachel asked him to pick Grace up early because she has to go to an important meeting with Stan. And even though he’s pretty sure that his daughter would be happy to come say hi the next day, and she’s a great distraction for dark thoughts, _he isn’t sure_ that leaving Steve alone now is a good idea.

Not when it seems he…needs company.

“You have to pick up Grace tomorrow, right? It’s your weekend. You could stay here until it’s time to get her. I get up early anyway.”

His thoughts must show on his face, because Steve’s expression hardens, looking like he regrets opening his mouth in the first place. It’s that, more than anything else, that makes Danny decide.

“The fact that you know my schedule is frankly disturbing,” he responds after a brief silence, and wins another small smile. It’s not a total lie, but it’s not the truth, either. He already suspected that Steve was a control freak. “You don’t mind?”

“I’ve got spare rooms, Danny. Mary used one before she moved out.” Steve isn’t looking at him, which advertises his discomfort more than the tightness in his voice. “My sister and I grew up in this house, you know.”

Yes, he knows. He doesn’t want to start talking about the implications of that because he’ll never stop. Even Steve’s issues have _issues_.

“You didn’t say that the last time I spent the night here,” he half-accuses. His brain really isn’t making connections quickly. He’s more tired than he thought.

However, Steve knows what he’s talking about. “I wasn’t thinking about it the last time you spent the night here.”

Danny doesn’t ask him what he was thinking about.

He’s not unfamiliar with Steve’s look, not _completely_. He sees it all the time at work, in the field and out of it. He figures it’s curiosity, partly, but sometimes he thinks it’s…because he’s being ridiculous, because he has something on his face, or his hair is a disaster. Or all three. The first wouldn’t be a surprise, considering that Steve _has_ problems with his ties and the way he dresses in general. The rest just feeds his compulsion to check his hair out in the mirror.

Besides, he isn’t going to ask because he isn’t sure he wants the answer. Or, at least, he doesn’t know what answer he’d prefer.

“I need some noise.”

Steve raises an eyebrow.

“To fall asleep,” he clarifies.

“Is the television enough? It worked the last time you stayed.”

He gives the question the consideration it deserves. “Can _you_ sleep with the TV on?”

Steve shrugs his shoulders, as if his opinion doesn’t matter.

...

It’s the strangest friendship Danny has ever had in his _life_. 

* * *

 

Danny wakes up in the early hours of the day, of course he does, although it takes him a minute to find the reason. The sound of the television got lost at some point, rapidly tuned out, and shadows had taken over the room. It shouldn’t surprise him. His problems sleeping and insomniac nights had been building up for years, had so many causes it would be difficult to list them all. He never got a good night’s sleep, thanks to the lingering impact from so many hours with his job. It’s even worse since he moved to Hawaii following the whims of the woman he used to love, and had to leave everything behind. The woman he _loves_. Loved.

All right, the truth is he’s not sure what he feels anymore.

Part of his heart will always have Rachel’s name on it, no matter how bruised and broken it got; it’s the part that can never deny her anything. Not even when she told him it wasn’t working out anymore and ‘ _I’m really sorry, but I need a divorce, Daniel._ ’

Steve’s sofa is still more comfortable than the one in his miserable apartment. However, Steve’s presence next to him is a surprise, although it shouldn’t be. Had he fallen asleep again without meaning to? He remembers them sitting together like last time, and the comfortable silence around them. The contact between their arms and their feet brushing together on the rickety coffee table, all reminiscent of the time before. Danny’s neck hurts, too, and he realizes, a little amazed, that _that_ is the reason he woke up.

He wishes he could blame the ocean, the waves, the nightmares that follow him home from work, or even his desire to go back to a happier time. Any of those topics would make everything _easier_ , would give him space to not think about how comfortable he is sleeping next to his _boss_.

He sighs.

The sudden tension in Steve’s body tells him that, unlike last time, he _isn’t_ asleep. Danny isn’t surprised that loss and pain are keeping him awake, but he doesn’t dare ask him if he wants to leave. He can’t see his face in the dark.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Steve asks. He sounds awake and alert, almost like he’s expecting an attack.

There are so many ways to respond to that.

Honestly.

Danny massages his neck.

“Of course I’m uncomfortable. Your  _clavicle_ isn’t a comfy pillow, Steven.”

A rumble of laughter vibrates very close to his ear, but at the same time too far away, and Danny blesses the darkness. He knows that his face would be turning red if there was a light on and Steve could _see him_.

There’s a… _rolling_ movement and Danny sits up, drawing away to let Steve shift in the seat, swallowing down his questions and answers again. He thinks he’s going to get up and go, because that’s what he should do. Steve, being _Steve_ , doesn’t do what Danny expects, and suddenly a pair of strong arms are _dragging_ him to one side. He lets it happen because he’s worn out and half-asleep and doesn’t want to go and doesn’t want Steve to _leave_. The thought is so necessary that he hates it every time it appears, but at the same time he… _doesn’t_.

He wonders if Steve is as tired as he is of people leaving.

“Better?” he asks, sounding distant in spite of being so close. The heartbeats beneath his ear are a better lullaby than he expects.

“Mmm-hm.” A yawn steals his words for a moment, and he’s tired enough not to think about the _whys_. “I’m really sorry you lost a friend, babe.”

Steve is very quiet. Slowly, calmly, he relaxes. He doesn’t answer immediately but Danny feels pressure against his arms.

“Thank you.”


	3. My own feelings taking me hostage

It goes like this:

 

The third time it happens is…premeditated. _Almost_. Maybe superficially premeditated. Neither of them actively planned it because they didn’t talk about those nights in the light of day, not even a casual mention in passing. Not even when the possibility opened up for…a moment of need. _Distress_ isn’t an appropriate word, but seems a lot like it. _Desperation_ is a little too melodramatic.

At heart, the truth is that outside of Five-0 they’re practically alone on the island, and human beings are social creatures. Chin and Kono are _stupendous_ , a breath of pure, fresh air, but they’re too used to relying on each other. They don’t share the same loneliness that howls underneath his skin, underneath Steve’s. Danny doesn’t have anyone on the island except Grace. When the wind’s blowing the right direction, Rachel is _friendly_ but he’s been walking into that storm for a long time. Steve has his sister Mary, but their relationship has more lows than highs.

And so the inevitable outcome is that they have each other. It’s the reason Danny hates the situation, the uncertainty and all the doubts that stay with him after sleeping with Steve. Or rather, _next to_ Steve.

He’s a little surprised one morning to find Steve knocking on the door of his apartment. It’s kind of like a code between them, if he can call it that. On easy days they both walk in without knocking, without any apology for failing to respect the boundaries. Danny does it more than Steve, of _course_ , because he comes from a large family where everything belongs to everyone and space and silence mean problems and _‘What are you up to now?’_ —but when they need something _more_ , during moments of vulnerability and weakness and exhaustion, there’s a soft request in the knuckles on the doorway.

_He_ happens to be the one who started it, the first time he went to find Steve hoping to find something more than memories. It’s typical of Steven McGarrett, naturally. Acting like he can take anything without permission, like he knows the best way to do everything. At the same time he’s so humble and charming when faced with a moment of doubt, it’s _difficult_ to deny him the opportunity.

“Lose something?” he asks, because he wants to erase the hunted look in Steve’s eyes when he finds him on the doorstep.

He’s not wearing cargo pants, which is his usual work outfit. But it’s a little sad, all things considered, that he’s wearing his running clothes. Danny’s mind is stuck on asking _‘What is his problem?’_ and _‘God, it’s after midnight.’_

“I was in the neighborhood,” Steve answers, his face showing carefully sculpted disinterest. He doesn’t have to be a detective to figure out that it’s a pose. “I saw your light was on.”

There’s a silent, underlying question.

Danny sighs, and lets him in because it’s the middle of the night (he’s got to be very clear about this, it’s after two) and standing around in the doorway is _idiotic_.

“I can’t begin to tell you how sad it is that you’re out running at this hour.”

Steve doesn’t answer right away. He’s standing as rigidly straight as he was when he left the office, and Danny doesn’t know what it’s about, but he knows it’s _serious_. He only knows it has something to do with something Chin said that hit him hard. Both of them, if the expression on Chin Ho’s face when he said goodbye that day was any indication.

“I can’t sleep.”

Danny looks sympathetic.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Want to?” Steve asks, and his mouth creates the illusion of a reluctant smile. “Not really. But. You asked me once, about what was in my dad’s toolbox, remember?”

That catches Danny’s interest—that was months ago.

“I remember,” he says carefully, because it’s a tricky subject and if he pushes too hard, Steve will shove it down again and close off for a whole lot longer. “I also remember you said that you would tell me if I told you what Danno means, and I _did_.”

Steve nods, and talks about his mother’s accident, the missing report that Chin can’t find, saying more than he would’ve expected. He gets dizzy following the turns in the conversation because when they get to the end there’s too much that he doesn’t _know_. It’s like a dam broke and all the emotions are pouring out in a torrent, without filters or pauses or thought.

It’s probably a one-time thing, unrepeatable in so many ways. Steve isn’t the kind of person who opens up easily. He remembers a conversation in the car, uncomfortable with his broken silence. Danny doesn’t know what he did to earn this honor, but he appreciates it.

“He never gave up on the case,” he says in closing. “My mom’s death…he couldn’t ever solve it, but he never _gave up_.”

In other words, from _1992_ until the day he died. More than fifteen years looking for an answer. Eighteen years of regrets, silences, and absences; eighteen years of distance from his children, pushing them out of his life until there was nothing left but ashes.

Danny doesn’t understand _how_ the McGarretts think, he really doesn’t understand them, but he knows how they function from working with them. Thanks to working with Steve on a daily basis, he can say without a shadow of a doubt that these men are obsessive, laser-focused, with tunnel vision.

“And he dumped the whole investigation in that box for you to solve.”

“Yeah.”

_Jesus_.

Talk about _legacies_.

Steve’s shoulders loosen under the weight of the confession, calm for a moment. He will recover—Danny doesn’t doubt it for a second—and he will deal with the problem again in the morning (and probably every day after) but, at this moment, he can’t do it anymore.

“I get why you can’t sleep, babe,” he finds himself saying flatly.

Steve’s laughter, although a little broken, is more than welcome.

 

* * *

 

  
It’s not until he’s too tired to be coherent that Danny remembers he only has one bedroom in his apartment. Well, it’s _not_ exactly a bedroom. It’s a _living-room_ , to be precise, thank you. And making a decision about _where_ Steve is going to sleep if he stays—and he will stay, because he came _looking_ for him. Danny knows how much effort this took on his part, and throwing him out seems unjust and _cruel_ —is inevitable, too.

Truth is, he hadn’t thought it through when he invited him to spend the night. Which is ridiculous, since he’s a detail-oriented person.

“You call this a _bed_?” Steve comments while he sinks back into the mattress next to Danny. “Now I understand why you fall asleep so fast when you stay at my place. My sofa is _more_ comfortable than this.”

Danny doesn’t know how to answer that. There are too many things that are _wrong_.

Steve pauses when Danny doesn’t respond immediately. It’s a fact that they’ve slept together—meaning _next to_ each other, the semantics are awful—and maybe they were really good nights. And maybe he’d been carefully avoiding the McGarrett house when he needed comfort even when he’d wanted to go, once he’d realized what was going on.

But sleeping on a _couch_ is totally different from sharing a _bed_.

Oh, it’s a tempting enough idea, no doubt, considering some of the factors involved. But Steve is still his _boss_. More than that, he’s his _coworker_ and his friend. There are too many things in Danny’s life wrapped up in him for…

“It’s only going to be uncomfortable if you let it, Danny,” Steve finally says, as if he is reading his mind. His expression is calm and sincere, and totally _Steve_. “But you know, I can go.” He’s staring at him, like he does when someone does something that he doesn’t _expect_ , when he wants to decipher _the_ reasons as fast as possible so that the universe makes sense again.

Danny’s on the other side of that look pretty often.

“Turn off the light, will you? And stop complaining about my apartment.”

The way Steve relaxes isn’t unfamiliar, but he doesn’t want to think about what that means. He’s right, really, it’s only going to be uncomfortable if he _lets_ it. There’s no reason it has to mean anything. At least, Steve doesn’t have any reasons and Danny doesn’t have to have one either (it’s too bad he was never any good keeping things separate.)

“Good night, Danno.”

“Mmmhh.”

Actually, he just hopes that in the light of day things will be the same as they were yesterday. Getting back to their regular chaos would be a gift.


	4. Not making the same mistake

It goes like this:

 

The following times that he goes looking for Steve—or that Steve comes looking for him—there aren’t any more excuses or half-hearted explanations to soften the impact of the truth. It’s not that Danny has been making excuses _per se_ , but the truth is…he doesn’t have any excuses. Sure, he likes sleeping with someone else. That’s not a sin or a secret, and he _misses_ having company in his lonely apartment. And sure, the last person he slept with, slept with and felt warm and content and good…was Rachel. Before Steve, that is, because he feels good sleeping with—next to his _boss_.

And it’s turning into a routine.

A. Daily. Routine.

How is this his _life_?

Objectively, at work, neither of them is behaving any differently. He and Steve are still arguing over everything under the sun when they’re in the car together, he still complains when Steve does something stupid (too often, in his opinion), and he still gets those sideways, amused looks from his partner when he doesn’t agree with what he’s saying. But at the same time, the lack of _reaction_ puts him a little…off-balance. Chin and Kono remain blessedly unaware of everything going on, but Steve’s lack of reaction (and his own) to the idea that they can sleep together—meaning _next to_ each other—and everything can just stay the same is…weird.

 It’s what he wanted, sure, but… _But_ —But.

Danny doesn’t mind sharing space with people. No, it’s…the intimacy involved that throws him off. It’s the way he finds himself searching for Steve’s warmth when he wakes up, the disappointment flooding him when he finds an empty space. Or the way that Steve’s arms close around him while he’s sleeping, as if he doesn’t want him to escape, although they vanish at dawn. It’s how they find themselves moving into each others’ space while they sleep, a kind of helpless magnetism taking over while they’re unconscious.

It wasn’t so much being attracted to Steve that bothered him but…knowing that he was _attracted_ to Steve.

And perhaps it’s something personal, something so intrinsic that he can’t untangle it, because his partner doesn’t seem to have the same reservations that he does, doesn’t seem bothered at all. It’s what happens essentially every time that they have a issue: they find themselves immersed in the same reality but have two different views of it.

To be fair, basically the problem _is_ Danny.

* * *

 

While he’s trying to get used to the way his life has changed since September (isn’t that a hell of a month?) and to everything that comes along with being in _Five-0_ and being _Steven McGarrett’s partner_ , Christmas arrives.

It’s a stormier Christmas than you’d expect in what everyone considers to be a paradise. (Seriously, Danny understands it, but being a cop always means you get to know the most horrible part of a place best, and his first experience on the island was…bad. And even if none of his coworkers agree with him, he still can’t let it go.) He’s not talking just about the heat that comes every day, even when it’s time for the seasons to change, but more…everything else that happens on this island that’s been abandoned to its fate in the middle of the ocean.

Hawaii is the entrance to an alternate universe.

He keeps an eye on Chin, who’s also shaken up by recent events, while they arrange for a red suit that represents hope. Everyone is shaken up, one way or another, but it’s _Christmas_ and Danny has six precious, short hours with his daughter. He’s determined to take advantage of every minute they share. He talked to his parents early and with his siblings to make sure everything was all right, just before getting everything ready. He also called to give season’s greetings to Amy Hanamoa and little Billy. It’s his first Christmas without his dad.

And it’s days like these that he remembers how fragile and short life is.

Steve, Chin, Kono, and Kamekona stay for dinner and stretch out the time together until their excuses grow weak and each one finds their way back to everyday life. Grace laughs, happy and joyous, so innocent that his chest burns looking at her.

At the end of the night Kono invites him to the beach before sundown the next day, if he wants to escape from the emptiness and need for awhile. She promises him surfing lessons—so he can teach _Grace_ , who got a surfboard. He turns the idea over in the back of his mind (there isn’t much he won’t do for his daughter, that’s not a secret to anyone at this point.) Chin invites him to a bar near work, where they’ve gone every Thursday since Meka’s case, if he needs company. Even Kamakona offers him a discount if he drops by his place. And sure, Hawaii is as far from being New Jersey as always but there’s something comforting in having people around again.

The holidays bring too much too close to the surface.

“They’re here for me, Danno,” Grace says, sad and small.

She’s growing so fast that soon she’ll stop running to meet him with all the sweet abandon of innocence. She’ll forget why the reasons that he can’t be there with her all the time are important. It’s possible that she’ll start to condemn all the things that Danny condemns in himself. However, meanwhile, she doesn’t protest when he hugs her—although his knee doesn’t thank him for it—and she doesn’t complain out loud when he has to let her go. He keeps her next to his heart every minute he can, drawing out the goodbyes until Grace tells him how much she loves him.

Danny tells her that he loves her more and everything is gone too fast. 

* * *

 

Steve is on the other side of the door two hours after his daughter disappears over the horizon. Danny stays very quiet when he hears the timid knock, and he wants to be surprised—really, he wants to be surprised—but he isn’t and can’t pretend. There’s something unusual in Steve’s gaze, a fleeting, unknown emotion in his eyes.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you to come back—Grace just left a moment ago,” he says, waving his hand around. The lie is heavy in his mouth but with luck, it only feels that way to him. “I wanted to pick up a little before bed.”

Steve doesn’t look like he believes a word, like _he’s_ the shameless one.

Danny shifts uneasily, very self-conscious under the scrutiny. “Mary?”

“She’s invited you to lunch tomorrow,” Steve responds. He’d gone home after dinner and changed his clothes, but there was still something gloomy in his look. Maybe because of what happened with Chin and Victor and the bomb that had loaded down the entire day. “We never have a big party at home. She went to bed an hour ago.”

That isn’t a surprise. The invitation, on the other hand…

“So why haven’t you followed her example? Worried you might end up in jail after the trick with the money?”

Steve sighs long and hard.

“ _Danny_.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He raises his hands in surrender then rubs the back of his neck when the silence lasts a little longer than necessary. Steve keeps staring at him. “You don’t have to check up on me to make sure I’m all right, you know? I’m grateful for the concern…but you don’t have to do it.”

Steve crosses his arms, perching on the arm of the couch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers, caution spilling through every word. “I wanted to see if you had any cookies left.”

Danny shot him a _look_.

“Those cookies are for _Santa_.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind giving me some.” There’s a smile on Steve’s face, a little curve to his mouth that betrays his serious expression. “I helped with _his suit_ today.”

Well.

Right.

Yes.

“The _thanks_ should go to the _Boy Scouts_.”

Although of course, Danny gives him some cookies later and his partner’s smile stays on his face for a small eternity, erasing the traces of stress accumulated during the day.

There’s something indefinable in the air still, but they’ll work it out eventually. Nothing else is possible.

“I thought you were coming to my place tonight,” Steve confesses, just when Danny feels his eyelids getting heavy.

“ _What_?” he asks, unable to choose between defensiveness or anger or confusion or… _something_.

“I expected you to come to my house tonight,” he repeats, separating the syllables and exaggerating the pronunciation. “After Grace left.”

_That’s_ not—

“ _Why_?”

He gets a shrug that he feels more than he can see as an answer, and it isn’t an answer at all.

He drags a hand over his face because he’s too tired to translate Steven McGarrett into something he can understand. They’ve gone back… to whatever is normal for them these days.

“I thought, well, I figured that, um…”

Danny can’t avoid a sad smile, grateful that Steve isn’t looking directly at his face either. Take him out of the field and McGarrett really has no idea what to do with a conversation. It’s a little painful, really, but Danny is more determined…to help him, maybe. To build a bridge so that he won’t be so lost. If he can.

He probably can. Danny is better at helping others than he is at dealing with his own crap.

“Eloquent, _babe_.”

“I’ve never had a problem talking to people, Danny,” Steve bursts out unexpectedly, insulted. He pinches the bridge of his nose, angry over God knows _what_. “It’s _you_.”

Danny blinks at the _non sequitur_.

“I’m _what_?”

“The _problem_.” 

Well, at least they agree on something for a change.

But it hurts.

“I’m the problem? _Me_? Why am I the problem?”

“Because of _this_.” He gestures at the space between them, obviously irritated now. And Danny knows that Steve doesn’t _talk_ with his hands, he’s only seen him do it with _him_ and only when he pushes too hard. “When you get close to me, when you think you’re getting _too close_ , you _walk away_.”

Danny’s not a stranger to his evasion techniques, all right? He just wasn’t expecting Steve to _point them out_.

“What?”

He gets ignored as usual. Steve’s face is so clear at times that Danny worries about the things he can’t read.

“Mary thought you would, too.”

“ _What_?”

Steve stares at him insistently. Still annoyed and irritated and…he’d almost swear he looks _hurt_.

“She knows that you come to my place sometimes, knows that we—I don’t know, sleep together? She was expecting to say hi and invite you to stay with us until tomorrow.”

That is really _sweet_ of Mary. He hardly knows her. He feels a wave of affection and almost feels like he should apologize to Steve for letting her down, letting them both down. Instead, he concentrates on the other part of the statement.

“We aren’t sleeping together,” he clarifies, a little harsh, and this is the test: Danny doesn’t want to fall into the weirdness crawling up his spine. “We slept _next to_ each other. A couple of times.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, looking extremely unimpressed with his tactics, and Danny wants to hit him, just once, just like the first day. His fingers itch.

“Isn’t that the definition of _‘sleeping together’_?” he asks rhetorically, the frustration in his voice growing with every word. “And it’s _more_ than a couple of times. Look, Danny, it hasn’t been a problem, right? I know that you seem a lot more rested and I feel good. Studies say that people sleep better when they have company than when they sleep alone.” 

He blinks.

He’s got to be more tired than he thinks.

“Studies?”

Steve gestures impatiently, frustrated. It makes him feel like he’s missing the important points in the conversation.

“Yes, studies. According the studies, it reduces cortisol, the _stress_ hormone. That’s why people sleep more deeply when there isn’t another person there but _better_ when there is. And you look more relaxed, you feel more…less—Danno, _don’t_ look at me like that.” 

They are definitely on different pages, which isn’t a surprise, but he’s not in the mood to deal with all of this right now.

“I think you should go, Steve.”

His whole posture changes with the sentence. It’s like he kicked a pile of kittens in front of him or demanded that he recite the _Miranda_ rights from memory right this instant. 

“What?”

“It’s Christmas and we had a rough day, a really rough day. I’m tired.” He sounds calmer than he feels, which he thinks is an achievement. “You should go sleep _deeply_ , and me too. Tell Mary I’d love to have lunch with her tomorrow.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind halfway.

“With me, right?”

“With you too, idiot,” he reassures him. It’s not Steve’s fault that Danny is…a _mess_. He wants to sound more encouraging but there’s a bitter taste on his tongue and he’s sure he can’t keep it from showing. “But she’s the one who invited me.”

Steve’s mouth twists into an offended grimace. 

“I invite you all the time, Danny. You know that you are _always_ welcome in my house.”

The sincerity in those words makes something warm and light flows through his veins. It’s not enough, but it’s not nothing either.

“Thank her this time,” he says with what feels like a smile. “And you really should go. You can take the Camaro, so you’ve got an excuse to drive it back here to pick me up tomorrow, if you’re worried I won’t show up.”

A torrent of emotions flash across Steve’s face. If he didn’t know better he’d say he looks…upset.

“Are we okay?” he asks, cautiously.

“We’re fine, babe.”

Danny is, without a shadow of a doubt, a disaster.


	5. Having you in my arms

It goes like this:

 

Rachel was always pointing out how  _unbearably_ stubborn he was when he got an idea into his head. It used to be something she liked about him, that he firmly, constantly held on to his beliefs and values. It was something she even admired at one time, but that faded into the reasons that they couldn’t live together and wore away the foundations they had built. He was too pigheaded, never able to see her point of view.

Differences that started out workable turned irreconcilable.

Danny imagines that, in part, they were too much alike, both too absolute on an unconscious level. It caused the rift that separated them in the first place. Because when two people both see the glass as half-empty they’ll never find it full no matter how many times they try. It didn’t matter how many times they tried to turn it around, there would always be empty spaces. Therapy had brought out the differences and they’d seen their darkest thoughts, raw and real. If Rachel had seen him die every time he went to work, in his dreams of the future he had seen her hand him the divorce papers from the moment she said, “ _I do_.” 

They’d never had a chance against themselves.

Rachel told him more than once that he could be ridiculously blind when things were right under his nose. The idea had hit him with renewed force when she confessed that she had crashed her car into him on purpose the day they met. It was a white lie that had lasted years, an obvious lie that he hadn’t seen for twelve years.

To make things worse, it reverberates through everything that had happened with Steve since the moment he’d arrived on the island. So, even though he hated admitting that his ex-wife might be right about something, he knows that he is truly _fucked_.

First, there’s the unquestionable reality that Steven is an idiot with no concern for his own safety.

It’s not just that he’s got control and abandonment issues, it’s also the gigantic guilt complex that’s going to swallow up all of his other afflictions. Added to that, Danny’s probably going to end up with a heart attack someday with all the stupid stunts Steve pulls. Chin and Kono are too easy on him—they throw him a life preserver and offer a hand, a missed opportunity until now—like they want to make him see reason. Although Danny is grateful for all of it, he is not going to lose another partner. He couldn’t save Grace or Meka, but hell will freeze over before he fails to keep Steve safe and _alive_.  
  
Second, Danny is a tactile person. He experiences the world through his hands. So it feels natural to have sudden impulses to reach across distances that he didn’t know were there. Offering a little comfort by patting an arm, hugging a devastated child, holding Grace’s hand when they were together. Hugging her, if she runs into his arms. Personal boundaries and spaces get smaller when you’ve got three younger siblings always running to you after a nightmare, when your mother gives affectionate hugs and life is lived with your body.

It’s natural for him. But suddenly it’s difficult, when he’s with Steve, not to be aware of what he’s doing and how easy it is to fall into patterns. He stays by his side in the main room (Chin and Kono always have more distance between then than he does with Steve.) They walk close together when they move through rooms, and when they are alone—in the car, mostly—their fingers reach across the space between.

He’s not sure how Steve can stand it—Danny is convinced that he was imposing on his partner’s life more than he _should_ and he took his time backing off after the Christmas revelations—because he comes from a controlled, ordered, structured environment. The chaos that follows Danny around must be intolerable. Everything about Steve is meticulous and Danny… _isn’t_. He keeps his office neat but is apartment reflects exactly how tangled his mind is.

_‘No wonder he wants to drive the car,’_ he thinks, while he climbs into the passenger seat. It probably helps him deal better with Danny if he has more control over Danny-related things.

So he tries not to complain out loud when he doesn’t return the Camaro keys immediately. He avoids staying too late at team meetings or when he occasionally goes out with Steve, so he doesn’t give in to the impulse to get  _closer_. He wants to stop imposing on his free time. 

Lately, he’s only spent time at the McGarrett house when Grace asks if they can.

It’s the new normal.

It’s not bad. Really, it isn’t.

Except that Danny is attracted to his boss and partner at unexpectedly intense levels, and is worn out trying not to let anyone—that is, Steven, Kono, and Chin Ho—notice, while he keeps trying to be the friend that Steve _needs_. But it’s not as bad as life was before he started with Five-0. It’s more than bearable because he doesn’t feel so alone, and he has a kind of family… _Ohana_ , as Grace calls it thanks to _Lilo & Stitch_; like Steve told Kono at her graduation. Furthermore, it’s good that they’ve kept the _status quo_.

It’s _good_. 

Absolutely.

Steve has Catherine, anyway. Every time she appears (on the island or in a conversation,) he finds it easier to remember his place.

So that…yeah.

Neither of them has mentioned the idea of sleeping together again, not a word since Christmas. Steve tends to stare at him, insistently, _recalcitrantly_ , every now and then, but he never says a word. Danny wonders if he feels the space growing between them; if he likes it.

He hopes, sincerely and from the heart, that at least he isn’t an imposition on his life like before.

He hates the idea of being an obligation.

With that conviction, he thinks it’s going to be easier to live with his…attraction to Steve McGarrett. An attraction that surprises him with its inherent force, to be honest. He didn’t think it would be difficult to deal with the way his heart climbs into his throat when he sees that broken expression, the shadows under his eyes, signs of the palpable obsession surrounding the toolbox his dad left him. Or the way the tips of his fingers itch to reach out when Steve leaves the car after a long day, and Danny has to turn around and head off into solitude. They way that sometimes his strong shoulders seem to give way under the weight of the world and he wants to comfort him. With the way he misses the calm nights when they could close their eyes and orbit around each other, nights that he refuses to continue since it doesn’t mean the same thing to both of them. With the way he feels under the occasional looks Steve gives him when he doesn’t think he’s looking, that burn along his skin.

The truth is that it’s everything but _simple_.

 

* * *

Then Mary is kidnapped.

Steve calls him in the middle of the night, his voice thick and stunned, so painfully confused that Danny feels guilt and worry stabbing him in the stomach while he grabs the car keys.  He calls Chin and Kono to meet them at the McGarrett house— _Steve’s house—_ while part of him is wondering _what if_.

Of course, it has to do with the toolbox Steve obsesses over.

McGarrett family themes are absolutely not simple and they end up more tangled than anyone could have predicted every time. At the end of the yakuza case, Danny’s not sure it’s a good idea to send Mary to the continent. But he doesn’t know what he’d do if it was Grace, so he keeps his opinion to himself.

The death of Koji Noshimuri is another piece in the dark plot closing around them. He doesn’t know if he could handle everything as well as Steve is.

“You’ve got to go home, Steve,” he says, after watching him go over the pictures his sister took of the box’s contents for the fifth time in the last bit. They’re pale memories of the real items but they’re all he has left. “She’ll call when she gets to Los Angeles and you have to rest. I don’t want to have to worry that you’re still here.”

“There are more people behind all this, Danny. There’s… _I have to_ solve it. It put my sister in danger.”

Both of them. All of them.

“I know.” And he knows, he really _understands_. “But you’re tired and you can’t do anything else today. You’ve got to sleep sometime, you know? You’re not a robot.”

Steve stays stubbornly in front of the main computer.

“Not enough of one, you mean to say.” When Danny just looks confused, his expression softens. “You’re always telling me I’ve got no feelings, Danno.”

Steve looks at him with glassy eyes, irises clouded with exhaustion, something painting shadows behind his gaze.

“No matter how much there is to that,” he says softly, “I hope you know I’m not serious.”

Danny sighs deep inside, but reaches out and pulls on his arm with calculated gentleness.

“Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Surprisingly, he _yields_ , he really does, but he doesn’t take any chances that he’ll change his mind. Danny can feel the tension under his fingers but there’s no actual resistance. Steve lets himself get dragged out of headquarters.

He stops when they reach the parking lot and, taking the keys out of his pocket, slaps them into the palm of his hand.

Steve’s eyebrows disappear upward. “Are you letting me drive voluntarily, Danno? That’s a surprise.”

He waves exaggeratedly as an answer, surrender and renunciation and something more, making the SEAL smile slightly. It’s a victory, of course, and he takes it as one. It’s also the reason he’s letting him drive right now. What a control freak needs after a day of so many uncontrollable things is to have something to take charge of, to control.

What’s a _surprise_ , however, is that he doesn’t return the keys when they get to his house, even though he holds his hand out for them. Instead, Steven ignores him, ominously, like he does during police procedures. He leaves him without any choice but to follow him inside the house if he doesn’t want to stay shut up in the car.

Fresh night air kisses him when he leaves the car behind in the clearest ocean-side spot. Profound silence covers the house.

“I need the keys,” he points out.

Steve turns to look at him. There’s something in his eyes he can’t pin down, something that starts a tingle under his skin.

“What we _need_ is a good night’s sleep. You’ve stayed before.” 

“I don’t have any pajamas here,” he tries. And he knows how absurdly weak it sounds when he hears Steve sigh.

“You can _borrow_ clothes. I think we both know that neither of us is going to sleep well if we aren’t in the _same_ place.”

Well.

Well, okay, he’s _right_.

When Danny doesn’t protest immediately, which when he’s _exhausted_ is as close to total consent as he gets, Steve’s whole posture relaxes in response.

“Besides, I think we can talk about what’s going on,” he adds carefully, his voice softer than usual but still even.

Suddenly he steps closer, and Danny wonders if he should back up, his personal bubble feeling a little small.

His head is messing with his perspective.

“The case can wait,” he finds himself saying tiredly. “But you know we’re going to do everything we can to solve it. The Noshimuri—”

Steve makes a face that might be affection or exasperation. Or _both_.

“I’m _not_ talking about a case.” 

Danny freezes.

He’s noticed how tense Steve has been since they got into the car—the tight line of his spine, his knuckles white on the steering wheel—but he’d chalked it up to the day’s events. Something in his stomach turned at the idea that…the tension running through him is something to do with _Danny_.

He realizes, too late, that this is why he didn’t resist being taken home.

_Clever bastard_. 

“What are you talking about?” he asks, without much conviction.

Steve raises an eyebrow. Yeah, he’s not fooling him.

“You _really_ don’t know?”

He’s got that expression again. The one he uses for things that worry him because he doesn’t understand, but at the same time intrigue him because he wants to figure out how they work. It’s way more intense in the soft light in the living room.

“Steve…”

“Not right now,” he answers, smooth, calm, and tempting. Danny can’t focus on anything except how small his arm looks under Steve’s hand when he pulls him toward the stairs to the bedroom. “I agree that we need to rest. You need to sleep for awhile and so do I.”

His stomach sinks while silence settles around them.

He should protest, really. He’s been trying not to let this happen for almost two months, to create space between them—he can’t believe that he’s keeping count—and he should—should…

He sighs when a flood of images and sensations hit him as Steve’s arms suddenly close around him in front of the bedroom door. It’s all the familiar closeness that he’s been yearning for the last couple of months. It’s all the newness of this particular embrace. The height difference is a strange _comfort_ because of the way they fit together.

Steve holds him in his arms like he’s _delicate_. Danny buries his nose in his shoulder.

“Stop thinking so much, _Daniel_.”

The way he says his name is deep and rough and too irresistible to even try to ignore.

“I hate you.”

Steve laughs into his hair.

“No,” he answers serenely, so damned confident. “No you don’t.”


	6. Beginning with a smile

 It goes like this:

 

Danny wakes up with firm warmth pressed against his torso and impossibly long legs tangled up with his under the sheets. The _warmth_ is definitely the most immediate sensation registering in his mind, since he’s always had bad circulation. His feet are constantly cold in spite of the tropical climate outside. This new development is welcome, even praiseworthy. He can feel the press of Steve’s body against his back, a strange familiarity that he still can’t process on an intelligent level. His calm breathing invites him to close his eyes, sink back into sleep and forget why he’d been trying so hard to avoid this moment. He doesn’t feel trapped in Steve’s arms—however, there’s something totally unexpected in being supported, because Danny is usually the _protector_. But he can’t get up and free himself from the bed, either, if he wanted to, because they are…are _interlaced_ together somehow.

He has no intention of moving, a thought that alarms him. _He should want to move_.

By the darkness that still filters through the windows and curls all the way into the furthest corners, he’s sure it’s still not time to get up. _His_ time to get up, at least, because he doesn’t have the slightest idea what time Steve leaves bed and starts his routine.

He has the impression however that it’s closer to dawn than not. 

“Did you sleep well, Danno?”

  
That startles him. It’s not so much that Steve is _awake_ , but that his arms are still around him and continue being around him, unlike all the times before, when he’d find himself in this position with solitude for company. He doesn’t remember what time he fell asleep during the night—he was more exhausted than he’d thought when they dragged themselves under the blankets—but he remembers the distant noise of waves and water, and Steve’s voice like a lullaby, soothing his fears.

He feels _better_ than he’s felt in months. 

“Your studies were right,” he mumbles, and turns a little to bury his face in the pillow. Steve’s scent is everywhere, relaxing, comfortable, and _familiar_. Danny resists the impulse to take a deep breath.

“I figured if you woke up first you were going to try to escape,” Steve whispers against the curve of his ear, closer than he was a second ago. Danny shivers for reasons not at all related to the temperature. When had he turned into a schoolboy with a crush? It’s _ridiculous_. “I really hope I don’t have to tie you up for us to have a conversation, Danny. Although now that I think about it, it’d be a good way to use your ties.”

There’s a smile hidden in his tone, which is a relief after everything that had happened yesterday. It’s so different from the voice he’s used before that he finds himself responding with a snort, simply trying to make things normal.

“Stay away from my ties, McGarrett. I wasn’t trying—I wasn’t _escaping_.”

He’d been planning a retreat, actually, but it wasn’t an escape. Maybe he was too tired to be scared.

Steven doesn’t respond right away. Danny feels the movements he can’t see. Steve is drawing away, without letting him go entirely, one arm still holding him firmly in place. A light is suddenly switched on in the room, shredding the darkness. Danny blinks until his eyes get used to it---typical McGarrett impatience oozing from his pores—and the world takes a minute to come back into focus.

He doesn’t expect the gentle touch of Steve’s fingers against his face, thumb against his jaw and palm cradling his cheek, nor the tenderness as he lifts his face to look him in the eyes. Really, he’s _too_ close. Overwhelmingly close. He can’t see anything that isn’t _Steve._  

“You’re going to have to let me doubt that, Danno,” he says. His face has traces of the accumulated exhaustion of the last few days, maybe the last few _months_ , but there’s an uncommon lightness in his expression. “You’ve been doing it for the last two and a half months.”

As usual, he starts to protest.

“It’s not—”

“Before Christmas, you were coming over less often,” Steve points out, still gently. The calm tone is cracking all of Danny’s defenses. He wants to push free and get away because he can’t fight this. “But you started to get distant afterward. Am I forgiven yet?”

What is… _what_?

“ _Forgiven_?”

“What I said at Christmas bothered you.”

And he was right, in a way, but there’s no way he understands what Danny _feels_. No way he knows. He can’t let him know.

He’s pretty sure Steve already _knows_.

“I didn’t need to forgive you,” Danny tells him honestly. Suddenly all the fight goes out of him. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“So?”

“So, _what_? God, Steven. I don’t like—”

The look Steve gives him is familiar and intense. It like he’s looking for answers deep in his eyes. His face is still very close and Danny feels like there’s no escape.

“—when I tell you you’re being an _idiot_? Because let me tell you, Danno, you’ve been an idiot.”

“Steve…”

“Uh-uh. _You_ say it to me all the time. I guess it’s a good thing I’ve got the opportunity to say it to you.” 

“Rachel says it often enough,” Danny murmurs acidly, “and she uses fancier words.”

“I’m starting to see her point,” he responds with a touch of impatience spilling into his voice. “Although I’d prefer it if we didn’t talk about her when we’re in bed together.”

“You’re the one who won’t let me out of _bed_. You and your giant arms and giraffe legs…”

Steve smiles, his lips quirking reluctantly. “I missed you.”

That stops everything Danny wants to say cold.

“What?”

“I missed you when you weren’t here. I haven’t lived alone very long, Danny, and when you aren’t in the house…” There’s a pause as if he can’t find the word he wants to use, but he can fill in the blanks. His eyes blink away from Danny’s face because this is difficult for him, saying this, and that expression shows his honesty more than anything else. “You _stopped_ coming over. You stopped spending time with me outside of work. And the only times you came over were when you were with Grace and she wanted to. I though I’d really done something to—You’re always welcome, Danny. Here. In my house, in my life— _here_.”

It still costs Steve to talk about his feelings, and the world continues to spin. Danny is an idiot, he hadn’t dared to think that Steve was feeling the distance as much as he was. The sun doesn’t get pulled out of orbit by the nearest planets.

But Danny is an idiot.

“Steve…”

“Let me talk now. I have to _tell_ you this,” he insists, his voice dark with midnight and his eyes full. “When I took Mary to the airport she told me I can’t push people away like Dad did all his life. That we can understand why he did it but we don’t have to repeat it. That we have to—She told me that I had to talk to you and clear the air. She said we were idiots.”

He could comment that Mary Ann isn’t the best person to give life lessons, but he thinks it would be too harsh to say out loud, and really, she has some very good points about the current situation.

Danny’s seen the two McGarretts together, and although they don’t have as easy a relationship as other siblings, their love is sharp, clear, and profound. But it’s a _miracle_ that Steven listened to her talk about feelings. He’s the one who never hesitates to think that Danny is too sensitive. He grew up in a world that despised any reference to the matter, cutting it down at the root.

As if he’s reading his mind, Steve smiles before saying something that grabs his attention. “I might’ve let it go if Grace hadn’t asked me if I was going to leave _too_.”

His innocent, perfect, little girl said... “ _What_?”

Steve’s smile gets a little bigger. But his voice goes smooth and calming again. “The last time you guys came over, when she asked me to go swimming with her and you stayed on the shore…You’ve got a really intelligent daughter, Danno. She made me see some things. She asked me if I was going to leave sometime the way her mom did, and if that was why you were sad.”

There’s a question in that but Danny can’t even worry about that now. Steve is opening a lot of doors that he’d rather keep solidly shut.

“What did you tell her?” he asks, because he can’t wrap his head around the idea that Grace worries about him. God, he’s a terrible father. “Steve, she’s eight years old, she doesn’t need to know that—”

“That we sleep together?”

“We don’t sleep together,” he reminds him, fully exasperated. “We sleep _next to_ each other. She doesn’t need to be confused about our relationship, Steven.”

Not when Danny is already confused with things the way they are.

  
“I didn’t talk about that. But we sleep together. The first few times, sure, we made excuses.” Steve shrugs a little and then starts drawing patterns on his temple with the tips of his fingers. Danny gradually relaxes into the repeated movements against his skin. “But I think that we both know there was something more, too. You wouldn’t have run away so much if there wasn’t. I thought that… _you know_ I’m not good with words, but I thought it was _obvious_.”

“Obvious?” Even Danny can hear the disbelief.

Steve gives him a _look_.

“The things we do together, have you seen me do them with anyone else? Have you heard me talk to anyone the way I talk to _you_? I don’t go out with Chin or Kono half as much as I do with _you_ , Danny. You haven’t noticed?”

Yes, he’d noticed. “But—”

“They’re _ohana_ just like you and Grace and Mary, but this, the two of us…you and me… _we are_ more. You can say anything you want, but you know it. And I _know_ it’s mutual. Because you are here now and you still haven’t said a word that makes me think otherwise.”

It’s a few heartbeats before he can find his voice again, or a coherent thought in the tangle of ideas Steve just dumped into his head.

“We can’t.”

He is definitely an idiot. 

“Why not?” Steve asks.

“First, we’re _partners_. We’re…we’re together in the field all day and that won’t change, I don’t _want_ it to change. I trust you, Steve, you have no idea how much, and this, what we have, is good. But Chin and Kono…they need to be a priority too. For you and for me. How can you promise me that that isn’t going to change if we—if we continue with _this_?”

  
Steve pauses. “Are you questioning my ability to focus on work?”

“Not yours, particularly,” he argues, because he knows Steve has tunnel vision and absolute focus, and work is essential for him. “I’m sure that in the SEALs they teach you how to multitask without blinking, but it’s different when it’s about people, about _feelings_.” 

Danny jumps a little when the last word escapes his mouth, because he didn’t mean to go that far. Steve pretends not to notice.

“Do you think anything’s going to change? Everyone thinks we’re married anyway.”

  
“That—okay, that is _not_ the point. We aren’t married and we’re going to stay partners. I don’t want to lose that.”

There’s something soft in Steve’s expression that clears away some of the dark clouds.

“Chin, Kono, and you are _my team_ , Danny. That’s not going to change because we won’t let it. No one gets preferential treatment. Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I run Five-0 like a benevolent dictator, not like a democracy.” Danny gives Steve a look until he gets serious again. “Can you tell me, with total, complete honesty, that things haven’t changed between us _already_ , Danno?”

  
He gives the question the time it deserves. He goes vaguely over memories that feel like film reels, cut into gray pieces and mixed up until they can’t be totally straightened out.

Steve really has a good point. They aren’t your typical partners, and they never have been, if Danny is honest with himself. Maybe it’s because he was going through a dark time when they met, maybe it’s because their clashing personalities set out to break down each other’s walls again and again from the moment they found each other, and it ended up uniting them. Danny was sleeping in Steve’s arms, for crying out loud, but he doesn’t feel any different now from how he’s felt since he heard him say that he wasn’t alone on this godforsaken island. He was the person who had been chosen as his _friend_.

Danny is a disaster when it comes to this, but that’s nothing new.

“I can’t say that,” he says finally.

The smile on Steve’s face is enormous, brilliant. It leaves him breathless.

“Second?”

“What?”

“You said that was first. That strongly implies there’s something else. Maybe more. Since we’re defeating your objections we might as well continue.”

“Defeating my objections? I didn’t say _yes_ to anything!”

“You don’t have to, Danno. You’re still here. Talking to me. That says _way_ more.”

“I _always_ talk to you.”

“Perhaps. But you never say much about how you really feel. I have to keep a close eye on you to see when you’re really upset or worried.” He runs a finger along the wrinkle between his eyebrows and then brushes the edges of his face. “You face twitches here when you lie. What else, Danny? What’s second?”

He feels the touch like a gentle invocation, painted colorlessly with the pads of his fingers, and he wants to feel _more_. But the conversation is too important to let it go.

“You’re my _boss_. I’m sure there’s—there’s got to _regulations_ about this kind of relationship. We…Can you stop doing _that_? You’re distracting me.”

There’s something possessive in the way Steve acts when he close to him, the way that he _touches_ him, that he doesn’t do with anyone else. He’s not like that with Kono or Chin…not even with Mary. Danny hasn’t seen him with Catherine, so he can’t compare.

But he doesn’t understand how he didn’t see it before.

Steve sighs. He stops moving his hands but doesn’t let him go, as if he’s really afraid that Danny _would_ run for it.

“Let me get this straight, Danno. You’re worried that I can’t maintain my objectivity on the team, that the situation at Five-0 will change. That is something we’ve got to face sooner or later, but I can promise you that I will do the best I can to keep everything the same. I like this team, I like the way it works now. Is that all? Does it bother you to be attracted to a man? That the Navy still has DADT? The possibility that I won’t be able to go on living without sleeping with a woman? My friendship with Catherine? There are a lot of possible objections to our relationship, Danno. You can start with whichever one you want and I will _defeat it._ ”

Steve just opened the door to a discussion and Danny is astonished.

He wants to ask what changed and why now…why he seems so open to examining their relationship when before he was so against everything about emotions and communication and all that Danny is always saying he avoids. But, deep down, he thinks he understands what changed.

The conversation between them is heavy, in his ears, in his thoughts. 

“You _really_ missed me.”

Steve shakes his head, disbelieving and a little sad. Danny wants to wipe that expression off his face.

“I really missed you, Danno,” he sighs. It’s a purr of words against his cheek. “I thought if I gave you some space you’d come back, but time just kept passing. I didn’t know what to do until yesterday—yesterday when you came looking for me in the office, you looked so worried and tired and I couldn’t…I couldn’t let this keep going any more.”

“That thing about the studies was totally unnecessary.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he had another real smile on his face. “I saw it in your face when I said it. I thought it would help you to see it as not something insane, that you’d want to talk to me if you could see it didn’t bother me. It wasn’t my best idea.”

“No kidding,” he answers.

He sighs, feeling worn out by the emotional exploration they’d just put themselves through. He hadn’t believed that Steve was that kind of person, but at the same time it made sense. If he felt like Danny needed it, he wouldn’t stop until he found the answer. No matter how painful it was for him. He’s the kind of fool who worries more about others than about his own well-being.

And Danny doesn’t know why that thought is so sweetly, warmly painful. The only thing he knows is he wants is to stay here, in Steve’s arms.

“Danno?”

His sigh is filled with agony. He just can’t enjoy his daydream in peace with McGarrett at his side.

“Yes, Steven?”

“Can I kiss you now, or do we have to keep talking about our relationship?”


	7. And ending with tomorrow

It goes like this:

 

Mary calls Steve while they’re still in bed, almost like the interruption was choreographed—he’s not sure if he should be happy because at least they weren’t interrupted by getting called to a _savage_ crime. Danny can’t be annoyed, not _really_ , by the bad timing, since Mary is one of the reasons Steve’s been concerned for the last few hours. Her kidnapping is still very recent, very worrying, and he wants to know she reached the continent all right. Steve looks at the telephone with a faintly frustrated expression, something he doesn’t see very often. But there’s also a hint of relief about the call and something much newer that translates into a smile.

He closes his eyes, feeling like he could go back to sleep listening to Steve talk to his sister.

Things are getting better.

“It’s still the middle of the night here, Mare,” he dimly hears him say. “Well, I’m not up but I wasn’t sleeping, either, um, no—What? No, she’s not here. Why would there be someone with me?—”

Danny hides a grimace, wondering who the _she_ is that he’s talking about. He holds his hand out for the phone, to Steve’s surprise. He’d been left speechless, his sister being one of the few people who can do that to him.

“Hi, Mary,” he greets her, casually. “How was the flight?” 

“ _Finally_ ,” Mary Ann says on the other end of the line, with a trace of exasperation that makes her sound a lot like her brother. She also sounds insufferably awake as far as Danny’s concerned, due to the time difference between the island and the continent. “I’ve been waiting for one of you two to _do something_ since I got to Hawaii.”

Danny repeats, “Since you _got here_?”

“Well, not exactly. And it’s not that I bought the excuse that you were just sleeping together…I was—Did I ever tell about how I met Catherine?” Mary asks bluntly. Even so, he can picture her smiling while they talk, and Danny feels a burst of affection for her again. At least she seems happy about he and Steve getting together. He wonders how his siblings will take it, if it gets to _that_. “I heard them having sex in the house where _I lived as a little girl_. When I woke up she was there and Steve was gone so we had to introduce ourselves. I’m positive he wanted to keep adding to my trauma, like I don’t have enough with my family.”

Danny feels Steve’s arms tensing around him, like he was listening to every word—and maybe he was, seeing how close they were—and although he’s _tempted_ to look at his face, at the same time he’s not sure what to expect. Not even which part out of everything Mary just threw at him was bothering Steve the most. 

He’s sure, like eighty percent, that Mary isn’t serious. But well, it’s hard to know with the younger McGarrett.

“So how does _that_ make you think about me?”—because, _seriously_? Mary laughs.

“It wasn’t that. It was hindsight. Do you know who was the _first person_ he introduced me to when I got to Hawaii? Forget that, the first person he introduced me to in _years_. Let me give you a clue: he was wearing a tie.” There’s a pause that Danny doesn’t know how to interpret. “Not that it was all that subtle hearing him call you ‘ _my Danno_ ’ all the time.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Steve took the phone back after that, like he was afraid of whatever else Mary might say. He listened to them exchange goodbyes and promises to talk again. With the moment irredeemably gone, Danny couldn’t help laughing, open and easy, at the expression on Steve’s face when he put the phone down.

The laughter floats in the air until Danny focuses on Steve’s face. His smile is in the middle of a gentle expression and everything about him is relaxed and calm. It’s an image Danny recognizes, in spite of never being able to identify the _reason_ for it before. A wordless warmth extends from his fingers to his toes.

“Come here, babe.”

Steve looks at him, eyes clouded in the half-light, the restrained desire between them coming apart under Danny’s hands, with the touch of his fingers tangling in his dark hair, his forehead against Steve’s. It’s easy, in a way Danny isn’t used to things in his life _being easy_. He yields to the familiarity he has with Steve, no matter how new this yearning is, that he’s allowed, the possibilities that have just opened up. It’s barely a brush of lips against lips, chaste and slow, echoing with an intense feeling. Something scratches inside his chest, begging to be free. It’s devastatingly sweet and soft, tinged with something sharper, alive and powerful. Then, Steve changes the angle and it’s _perfect_.

A sigh that might as well be a gasp rolls off his tongue when Steve draws back a little, looking at him in silent, marveling astonishment that can’t be put into words.

“We’ve got to call Chin and Kono,” he hears him say. “We’re going to be late for work today.”

Danny laughs until it hurts.

* * *

 

 When Danny asks Grace what she things of _Steve_ , his daughter—who is a very smart girl—gives him an interested look. He remembers the looks that Rachel used to give him when she suspected he wasn’t telling her everything and was determined to find out what he was hiding.

“I like him, Danno,” she says carefully. Her ice cream is melting rapidly in the usual Oahu head, but she doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to finish it. “Are you going to start going out with him for real?”

Danny blinks. She sounds a lot like him suddenly, his little monkey. More an evocative resemblance than a memory, as precious as it is nostalgic, the thought that both Rachel and he gave Grace parts of themselves soothes the painful remnants of a life that doesn’t exist any more. She is the best of both of them and took the best of both of them, of everyone around her, and she is happy and well on this island.

Danny can’t deny that the idea is comforting in every way. 

“Go out for real?” he asks, because there’s _that_. He wasn’t expecting to get to this part of the conversation so fast.

Grace bites her lip and her eyes drop to the ground for a moment. Danny waits because he knows she’s looking for words. It’s a nervous gesture, typical Williams.

“He said he wanted to go out with you the way Mom went out with Stan before they got married,” she says softly. Danny wonders why Steve didn’t tell him this. “…And that he was going to ask you out soon so you’d stop being sad. You want to go out with Uncle Steve too, right?”

He feels a lump in his throat that feels a lot like his heart and realizes how much Grace’s approval means to him, how much he _needs_ it. 

“I’d like that,” he responds, and it’s surprisingly easy to say out loud. Maybe it would be different if it wasn’t just his daughter listening. “But if it doesn’t bother you. You’re the most important person to me, little monkey.”

Grace’s smile is beautiful.

“I just want you to be happy, Danno. Uncle Steve makes you happy.” There was a short pause. “Almost always.”

“Yeah, well, he’s got his moments. He also pisses me off a lot.”

Grace laughs. “Like my friend Tommy.”

“ _Who_?”

* * *

 Later that same week, Rachel calls him. Her voice sounds strange, but Danny can’t identify the emotion behind her words and he got tired of trying awhile ago. He hasn’t understood Rachel in years. Maybe they both changed too much too fast.

“Grace told me you’re seeing someone but didn’t tell me who it was,” she says, cautious with every word. “I know it’s none of my business, Daniel, but—are you sure? Grace seems really hopeful, but you haven’t said anything to me about this before and…”

Danny feels the tension climb up his spine and wrap around his throat, blossoming into words he doesn’t want to say. He pushes on the bridge of his nose while he reminds himself that explanations matter. They matter because this is about Grace, about his daughter’s wellbeing, when she’s already been through so many changes. It’s easy to get along with Rachel when they both put their daughter in the same place and forget all the pain they’ve inflicted on each other.

“It’s not…It’s not exactly _new_ ,” he confesses softly. He can image Rachel’s face, her confused expression confirmed by the ongoing silence. “It’s not new. It’s…it’s complicated.”

“It’s always _complicated_ with you,” she says over the phone. There’s more bitterness than warmth, but one is layered over the other. Ten years means something. “But I know it’s serious, too, if you’re talking to Grace about it.”

Danny looks up and can see Steve through the glass separating their offices. It’s a surprise—and at the same time, not—to find his eyes and a smile that is fast becoming his favorite. It’s genuine in a way that Danny can’t entirely define, and it’s a relief to know that he’s not the only one who can’t stop _looking_.

It’s a surprise how little things have changed this last few weeks. And that everything is different, at the same time.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he responds.

“I’m happy to hear that.” Rachel is silent. “There’s something that I want to talk to you about but I don’t want to do it over the phone. Are you free this afternoon?”

He rubs a hand over his face and swivels in his seat, to avoid concentrating on Steve.

“I’m in the middle of a case,” he mutters, feeling his blood run cold from the possibilities. He can’t help it, his brain runs in circles. “Is everything okay? Is it about custody? Do you have to leave?”

“It’s not about Grace,” she responds, unusually calming. “It’s something that Stan and I have wanted to do for awhile, and I think, we’d like you to be the one to help us. Are you going to make me tell you over the phone, Danny?”

“No, no. Sorry.”

The pause is longer this time.

“ _Rachel_?”

“I’d like to have tea again with Commander McGarrett. Make sure he comes with you when you’re free.”

And she hangs up. _What. The Hell._

“Danny?” At some point after he stopped watching him and before he finished talking to his ex-wife, Steve had slipped out and come over to his office door. “Everything all right?”

They’re in the middle of a kidnapping investigation. Chin and Kono went to a club called STORM to see if they could find any leads, and generally everything was going normally on this godforsaken island. But Steve’s looking at him with curiosity and genuine concern, almost like he’s getting ready to take off running if Danny tells him to. He did something like it the week before, when he found out that Rachel and Grace had had a fight, in spite of being in the middle of a mission. In face, he’d been in SEAL mode during the mission, and equally ready to help him if necessary.

Danny thinks, not for the first time, that he might be completely lost.

“Everything’s fine,” he says. It’s a relief to see Steve relax. “Rachel invited us to have tea with her when this case is over.” 

At that, Steve raises an eyebrow. Danny shrugs, because he doesn’t have enough time to go into detail in the middle of an active case.

“Anything new?”

“Chin and Kono are on their way back,” Steve says. “They say they’ve got something. With any luck we’ll finish this soon.”

Danny nods and starts moving, but stops in the doorway.

Steve has that look he gets sometimes, especially when they’re alone, and really especially when they have free time, and Danny feels like he’s _burning_. He shouldn’t, because he’s an adult man. He has a daughter and he is in no sense of the word a _virgin_ , _dammit_. A flash of memory gives him goose bumps, he can feel the rough and gentle sensation in his mind. He can feel the phantom touch of Steve’s hands, imagine how he moves over him, slowly, deep, a pitiless exploration, tracing invisible lines with his fingertips.

And Steve smiles knowingly at him. He doesn’t touch or kiss him, even crosses his arms to avoid brushing against him. Danny is relieved because they are working an active case. He’s got to keep his mind on work.

Honestly, it’s moments like this that Danny asks himself _what_ he’s gotten into.

“Steve, Danny,” Chin calls, his expression serious, and the moment is gone. “You’ve got to see this.” 

They have to find the kids, still, and the pressure is pulsing at the back of his mind like a clock. He still has to find out what Rachel wants to ask him and if it’s going to affect Grace. That isn’t even counting the mystery of the toolbox John McGarrett left to his son, mysteries inside of enigmas still waiting to be revealed and the general madness that’s normal for Steven McGarrett and the islands. Danny could swear that it was relatively sane before this maniac got here—but it’s…fine. More than that, much more than that…

There’s hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story appeared in my head a few days ago and wouldn’t leave me alone until it was done. Watching the first season does that to me.
> 
> Title is from the song [It goes like this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zP7eUlPo_d4) by  **Thomas Rhett.**
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> T/N: This story was a blast to translate. Thank you, Alphecca, for writing it and giving me permission to share it.


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